


WitSec of the North

by keerawa



Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: Banter, Canadian Shack, Gen, Pregnancy, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keerawa/pseuds/keerawa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Marshall said he was taking them 'north' for their own safety, Mary assumed they'd be staying in a hotel in Denver, not some shack in the middle of the Canadian wilderness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	WitSec of the North

The tidy log cabin sat in the midst of the quiet Canadian wilderness, well-stocked and well-loved, with a cord of firewood by the stove.

The silence was shattered by the roar of a snowmobile bearing two people. A rotund figure in a bright red ski suit sprang awkwardly off the snowmobile the moment it slid to a stop and ran in the front door of the cabin.

She stripped off her gloves, dropped them on the floor, and began unwrapping a scarf from around her face while looking frantically around the one room cabin.

A taller figure followed her through the door, carrying a backpack that had been strapped to the snowmobile. “Be it ever so humble,” he quoted as he rested the pack against the wall, “There’s no place like - ”

Mary shoved her scarf at Marshall. “Hold that thought. I have to pee, and if I have to do it outside, Marshall, I swear to God, I will hurt you.”

Marshall took Mary’s scarf from her, looked around the cabin and nodded to a curtained off corner beside the kitchen.

Mary dashed towards the corner, hands scrabbling at the fastenings of her coat.

Marshall removed his gloves. He picked up Mary’s gloves and hat and hung them on the rack by the door. Marshall methodically built up a fire in the stove, ignoring the sounds from the corner, and then hung up the rest of his outerwear.

Mary eventually emerged from behind the curtain with a scowl, clutching her coat. “That is not a toilet,” she accused him.

Marshall stepped behind the curtain to investigate. “Composting toilets are hygienic, and very ecologically sound,” he said loudly. “They’re especially popular in Sweden, from what I understand. Did you follow the instructions?”

“Yes, I followed the damn instructions,” she muttered, hanging up her coat and hat before standing by the stove to warm up. When Marshall came out of what Mary refused to call the bathroom, she turned on him. “If this is a joke, I’m not laughing. Have I ever told you about when I moved to Albuquerque?”

Marshall opened his mouth to reply.

“I missed a lot of things about New Jersey. I missed my apartment, I missed my friends –”

Marshall looked skeptical.

“What?” Mary said. “I knew people. We were friendly! But my point is, what I did not miss, when I moved to Albuquerque, was all the snow. And outside that door? Is nothing but snow.”

“Mary,” Marshall sighed. “You’ve been a WitSec Inspector for a long time. You must have given this speech hundreds of times. For our own safety, and the safety of those we care about, we have no choice.”

“Guevarra was one guy! One asshole, yeah, selling information about our witnesses to the cartels, but testifying against him shouldn’t put us in any danger.”

Marshall nodded. “Sound reasoning, but the AK-47 rounds currently decorating the walls of my home in Albuquerque would seem to indicate otherwise. The trial’s in seventeen days. Until then, no one can know where we are.”

Mary was starting to feel her toes again, and they hurt like a bitch. “How do you even know the guy who’s letting us stay out here?”

“Well, he’s a member of the RCMP. We met at a law enforcement conference some years ago in Chicago, and bonded over a mutual fondness for romantic poetry…” Marshall trailed off, glancing at Mary. “No comment?” he said, surprised.

Mary shook her head. “Too easy. It’s like clubbing seal pups.”

Marshall shrugged and continued. “We’ve kept in touch over the years. When I realized that we’d been targeted by the Mexican cartels, I thought our neighbors to the north might provide a refuge. Constable Fraser was kind enough to offer his father’s cabin as a safe house.”

Mary lowered herself into one of the cabin’s two chairs. She laboriously bent over and attempted to untie the laces of her snow boots.

“Allow me,” Marshall said, sinking to his knees in front of her.

Mary looked away as her partner efficiently untied and tugged off her boots. “There’s only one bed,” she realized. “Marshall – there’s no couch.”

“Fraser did apologize for the lack of furnishings. He’s been slowly rebuilding it since the fire. I can sleep on the floor,” he offered.

“Don’t be stupid,” Mary replied. “You’d be crippled by morning, and at least one of us needs to be fully functional in case the cartel finds us.” She hesitated. “Just so you know, every time the kid decides to do karate in the middle of the night, I’m waking you up, too.”

“Can I feel it?” Marshall asked seriously.

“No! What is it with people thinking they can get all handsy with the pregnant lady? Why, just the other day…”

Marshall settled into the other chair with a smile.


End file.
